Evil Never Dies

Stacey had been ignoring her calls for days now. Something was going on, and Lizzy aimed to find out what it was. She had been inside the station before. Had followed Stacey inside, knew what to do—assuming the keycard still worked. It was quite possible it had been deactivated when Stacey had been issued a replacement. Things would get more complicated then. Lizzy would have to feign frustration with the lock mechanism, then bluff herself inside when someone came to deal with her.

No plan B necessary: Lizzy slipped the card through the slot and opened the door into the building. The receptionist gave her a fu

Behind her, she heard someone calling out to her, but she ignored the voice and headed straight for Stacey’s cubicle.

Stacey’s head shot up when Lizzy entered her space. “Lizzy!”

“Hello, Stacey. Here’s your keycard back.” She tossed it on her desk. “Is there a reason you haven’t been returning my calls?”

Stacey sorted through papers on her desk, tried to appear relaxed, but she was anything but. Her face had paled the moment she’d seen Lizzy.

“What’s going on, Stacey?”

Stacey bolted to her feet then, grabbed hold of Lizzy’s arm, and ushered her to an editing room. She shut the door. Then she crossed her arms and said, “Now you can talk.”

“I have pictures of Miriam with Wayne Be

Stacey let out a breath. “I need that video back.”

Somebody tried to open the door. “Is everything OK in there?”

“We’ll be out in a minute!” Lizzy shouted.

The door opened. It was a tall dark-haired woman with wild eyes. She pointed at Lizzy. “You’re going to have to come with me, miss. You can’t be back here without checking in first. I’ll need your ID.”

Lizzy walked toward the woman, shut the door in her face, and locked it. Then she turned back to Stacey.

“They’ll call security,” Stacey told her. “You don’t want to end up in jail again, do you?”

“You’re seriously pissing me off. Tell me what’s going on right now, or I’m going to walk out there, find your boss, and tell him you’ve been working with me and that you borrowed station equipment to help me get a video of Wayne Be

“Be

“It’s complicated.”

“Bullshit. The asshole got to you, or maybe he had a little talk with your boss and he told you to back off.” Lizzy shook her head. “You are now officially just like every other chickenshit reporter ru

Lots of frantic pounding on the door.

“I thought you were different from the rest of the talking heads.”

“I thought so, too,” Stacey said. “But things change, I guess. I thought I could make a difference and somehow save the world. What a crock of shit. Now I’m just hoping I can save myself. I really don’t know what else I can say other than I can’t be part of this reckless journey of yours.”

“Then don’t call me begging for any more stories,” Lizzy said through clenched teeth.

Stacey shook her head in frustration. “You really don’t get it, do you? Be

“Then I guess we’re done here.”

“I’m sorry.”

Lizzy turned back to the door and opened it.

Two security guards with starched white shirts and shiny badges tried to grab hold of her arms. “Let go,” Lizzy said, wrenching them free. “I’m leaving.”

Shady Oaks Nursing Home looked slightly better than the last time Kitally visited. The smell of sanitizers was strong and the floors looked as if they had just been mopped. Even the dingy plastic chairs had been removed.

She walked up to the front counter and recognized the woman with the frizzy brown hair. She had the same a

“Hi,” Kitally said. “I’m here to see Betty Ackley. I’d like to check in.”

“Weren’t you here recently for a tour?”

“Yes, I was.”

“I don’t believe you mentioned you knew Betty Ackley.”

“I don’t believe I did,” Kitally said. “Betty Ackley is the reason Mom and I are interested in checking the place out for my grandmother. Is there a problem?”

“She doesn’t get too many visitors. It strikes me as odd, that’s all.”

Kitally glanced at the woman’s nametag. Her name was Birgitta. “Can I please get a badge?”

The woman took her time, but she finally handed Kitally a clipboard with a list of names followed by blank spaces where she was to sign her own name.

With that done, Kitally made her way to the hallway with all the rooms where she’d first met Cecil and Betty. Unlike the front area, the hallway and rooms had clearly not been cleaned recently. The smell of urine and soiled bed linens became hard to ignore as she went along. Shady Oaks was definitely understaffed. The door to Cecil’s room was closed, but she found Betty sitting in the chair next to her bed. Once again, the television was blasting.

Betty’s eyes lit up when she saw her in the doorway. She picked up the remote and turned down the volume. “Did you bring me some chocolates?”

The woman might be old, but she was sharp. Kitally set her big leather bag on the edge of the bed, pulled out two boxes of assorted chocolates, and handed them to her. “I wasn’t sure what you liked, so I bought you a little bit of everything.”

“Thank you.” Betty studied her for a moment. “I really didn’t expect you to come back to see me. I was just trying to keep you out of trouble. The people around here can be frightening at times.”

Kitally looked over her shoulder to make sure no one was within hearing distance before she said, “I came back for a reason.”

The woman raised her eyebrows in question.

“Did you send a message to a man named Gus Valentine?”

Betty said, “Shhh,” and then gestured toward the door.

Kitally went to it and peeked into the hallway. It was all clear. She shut the door and went back to where Betty was sitting.

“What do you know about Gus Valentine?” Betty asked.

Kitally kept her voice low. “I work for an investigative agency. Gus hired us to look into the death of his wife, Helsie. Are you the one who sent the note telling him to have an autopsy done?”

Betty put a trembling hand to her chest. “I am the one who wrote that note. Helsie was my friend. She knew something wasn’t right about this place, but she died before we could figure out what was going on.”

“Do you think her death was suspicious?”

“Yes. I think they killed her.”

“Why?”

“Because she knew too much about what’s happening around here.”

The idea that someone might be killing off residents who were dependent on them made Kitally sick to her stomach. “You said the two of you were friends. Did Helsie tell you what she knew?”